That's my summary of my first week as a pastor.
I made at least one huge mistake (unwittingly, but still . . . ) and I'm having a hard time balancing teaching, ministry, and planning the details of the ordination service ~ with cancer thrown in.
I'm grateful that the teaching covers material with which I am familiar, that my congregation is flexible and full of good humor, and that my home church's office administrator is a genius with respect to detail and church knowledge. Book of Order, food, ushers, CDs, spellings of names, etc., etc. I'm grateful that the hospital is down the street. I'm grateful that my family is supportive and helpful, and that the kids have stepped up to help with our aging and pretty sick doggie.
But it's a lot.
And because God is no one if not a God of Irony, I have, despite my present personal circumstances, spent much of my time this past week with other people in theirs ~ in hospitals, assisted living, rehab, and hospice.
All of which may explain why I just did something I don't usually do. A former colleague wrote to apologize ~ in the most general way; she can't even write the words ~ for having never contacted me after Josh died, and to ask whether she would be welcome at the ordination.
I said that I would be happy to see her. And then, longing to email yell GROW UP!, I said that it must be difficult to manage life when you cannot even say to a friend that you are sorry that her son died.
Honestly, at our age, can't we put our timidity and discomfort aside for one another?
I'm hoping that to say so is another form of ministry.